No One Ever Expected
by Cloakofinsanity
Summary: Merlin Emrys had lost everyone he ever loved, when they all ran for freedom from District 5. And when the others had banished him to the woods outside of District 5, he thought he was safe. However, once Alice picks his name at the Reaping, the layers of protection around his past and his powers start to peel off. So what happens when he finally snaps? On HIATUS
1. Reaped The Wrong Tribute

Chapter 1

No one had ever expected it. But then again, nothing is ever expected. Especially not here, not anymore. Not one person had thought that the _he _of all people would be chosen. But they had no real idea of the possibilities, of the only choice that could be made. They had no idea. But he did. No, he had more than an idea; he had a plan. The kid from the forest had a plan to save them all. But he only needed a kickstart, and he had no idea where to get it.

That was how it started, I suppose. They. Had. No. Idea. And when you have no idea, you want one. Everyone wants what they cannot have. But no one wanted this, not even the boy. But when his name rang out above the somber silence , he had no choice but to follow the gasps toward the podium. His shining blue eyes met the dark brown of his competitor's. Kara, his distant memory reminded him, she was friends with his sister, Gwen, way back when. He shook his head, making jet black locks fall over his eyes to float over them like puppets. _That doesn't matter, _he berated himself as his perfectly normal hand shook her clammy one, _Gwen is as dead now as she was ten years ago. _

The walk from the Reaping Podium to the small room he now found himself in went by too fast for him to even care. All he could think about was the memories from Back Then. He saw his mother send Gwen and himself to school, as they walked by the abandoned place. His father was running his long fingers over the arrow shafts he had just bought, a smile floated over Merlin's face as he remembered; Father always used to do that. _It doesn't matter anymore than it did ten years ago_, the obnoxious voice shouted from the back of his mind. It was right of course, but that didn't mean Merlin had to agree. Again, he shook his head, black locks dancing over silvery blue eyes like bird feathers floating in mid-air on their descent to Earth.

Now, his lanky figure was cowed into a ripped seat as he waited for goodbyes to be over with. A pang of guilt and sadness flew over him as he realized, he had no one left to say goodbye to. _Ten years_, a sing-song voice murmured in his brain, depriving him of thoughts of the family he once had. Silently, he brain agreed that he couldn't help now, so he just waited in his seat with the two Peacekeepers standing awkwardly off to the side.

For what seemed like hours, Merlin sat in that ugly lilac seat until the woman from the Reaping entered. Merlin didn't hate her as he would have thought, but he rather enjoyed how she made a painting of herself. At least it was humorous. Her stark white glove came to rest on his shoulder as he waited in silence for the goodbyes to end. The boy heard Alice, at least that's what he thought her names was, take a deep, slow breath before trying to spark a conversation.

"I always hate the goodbyes. Too many tears, you know?" Her young, fresh voice rang out through the still air clearer and louder than Merlin believed necessary. However a smile grin appeared for a moment on his face when he turned his head to Alice. "Is that why you are blessing me with your presence?" A small laugh burst from both of them before a comfortable silence settled between them. "We will be boarding the train in a few moments." She paused for a moment, and a sigh almost escaped Merlin's lips; people always paused before they asked. "Are you sure no one wants to say goodbye to you?" His only set of teeth smacked together with such force, when she asked, that a dull clang could be heard from around the room. Merlin could only imagine how his eyes glazed over as memories of Gwen, Hunith (his mother), Freya (his twin), and Balinor (his father) assaulted his mind's eye. A stern nod answered her question, but left the unheard _why_ hanging in the air.

With a quick flourish of her hands, Alice left the awkward situation and room in record time. Had Merlin been in the mood, he would have clapped for her. But no, he was going to his death. Plain and simple. Everyone knew that he wouldn't stand a chance. Little to no one in District 5 ever survived for long after the Games, if they even finished those.

Before Merlin could finish his train of thought; the two Peacekeepers, which were standing over in two corners, started to bustle him toward the train. More than happy to oblige, the fifteen year old boy practically ran toward the train, likely too eager to escape the people who had kept him prisoner in that awful district. With one last glance back, all he could see were the pointed tops of the power plant roofs. Turning back to the train, the only thing he could think of was how it would lead him to his death. With one last morbid thought in District 5, he thought of the train as his funeral procession.


	2. The Death Squad

Hi everyone! I completely forgot to write an author's note for the first chapter, so I'm making up for it. I really hope you liked the first chapter and that you didn't think it was as depressing as I thought it was. I would like to thank **animebella09**, **flyaway213, and Melodenia** for following; this is my first fanfiction so having people actually see this piece before my seventh story is a very big, very pleasant surprise. Anyway on with the show (and yes I'm indulging in the fact that I can use "I" over and over again up here.) Also thank you **Kirstendonia **for your wonderful review and I'm really glad you enjoyed the chapter. I got a review! And a favorite! And three followers (?)!

Before I forget, I was wondering if I should do the next chapter from Arthur's point of view or not, if you could help me decide I would appreciate the help.

Disclaimer (which I also forgot. Oops): I do not own the Hunger Games or Merlin.

Chapter 2- Merlin

Even Merlin had to admit that the metal death trap they were in did have some perks. The beds were exceptional, new clothes hung in the closet, amazing food was prepared by servants, and everything was clean, and it was bothering him. His long fingers had nothing to brush aside; his pale toes couldn't poke through the hole in his old, weathered boots, and his hair was now gelled to the point of no return. Merlin shook his head; said blue goop came sliding down the dark locks in globs that plummeted toward the tile floor, showing him exactly how great his beauty squad was. Now here he was standing in front of a mirror that could pay for all of his possessions, in his training uniform which looked like should be on a red carpet. Now here was the banished little boy that was afraid to go home. Now here was the coward that never went back going into a fight for his life. And he will lose.

Again he shook his head, dissipating all the morbid thoughts that were racing around his head like a chant. His fingers started to twirl a tag on his uniform, and a goofy little smile slipped onto his face as he delved into the old habit. _Going into old habits, I suppose, _his overactive brain murmured as he took fourteen deep, slow breaths. Letting out the last breath, Merlin let his brighter-than-normal blue eyes rest on his reflection. He supposed he should like this "new Merlin" a new beginning, a new opportunity, but all he could see when he looked in that mirror was the boy who didn't belong. He didn't belong in those clothes. He didn't even belong in his district, much less the center of the Capital. Merlin slipped out of the skin tight clothes in a matter of minutes, an incredible feat considering how tight those clothes were, and traded them for some sweats he was planning on wearing to bed. _Screw it, _he thought as he threw the metal door open and raced down the hallway to the origin of some delicious smells were dwelling.

As Merlin dragged his feet over the plush carpet, he couldn't help but notice how queer his little death squad, as he dubbed everyone on the train, was. Slumped in one corner was an eighty year old man with a stark white beard that reached half way down his chest and hair the same color and length. Merlin cracked a little smile when he looked at the man, somehow he reminded him of his grandfather from way back when. His cobalt eyes started to scan the room again; the grin widening as he stared. Pouting in a wood chair by the window was Kara, who twirled a butter knife in between her fingers while trying to figure out how the old man moved his head every time she threw the knife at him. The last person to add to the party was of course young Alice. Her bright blonde hair was in curls bigger than Merlin's fist, with little butterflies and dragon wings covered the head band and poked through the hair to show off. Alice's dress was bright red with scales embroidered on it and a simple chain with a huge butterfly was thrown around her neck, just to make sure you knew that this was over the top.

As Merlin flopped down on his seat, all six eyes flew to his small figure that was crushed into a kindergartener chair. He waved slightly with his left hand before letting it flop down onto his lap, adopting a small, welcoming smile that was not returned. The old man turned his head so he could fiddle with the window shade and mutter about the newest generation. Kara rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance before opening her mouth to question the old man. Before a single word could float out of Kara's mouth, Alice hurriedly interrupted her. Merlin thought it was just for principal. "So Dragoon, how about we introduce ourselves?" Alice's light voice carried across the room brightly and clearly.

Dragoon huffed, surprisingly similar to the way Kara had a minute ago, before leaning closer to us and opening his mouth. "I'm Dragoon, this is Alice. I don't care who you are and unless you give me a reason to know your name I will not." A threatening glare was sent across the room before the blue eyes settled back on the tributes. "My job is to make sure one of you gets out alive, and that is it. It is not my job to make friends for you in the Capital or with the other tributes. So don't even try it." Yet another glare was sent across the room. "Now what are your strengths? Since neither of you will strike up any decent conversation, I guess we will start there.

"Well," Kara's threatening voice slithered across the silence and embedded itself in our ears. "I am personally great at hand to hand defense and knife handling." Even the way she said it put Merlin's teeth on edge, and the challenging look she was throwing him was not helping. Finally, he turned to Dragoon and opened his stupid mouth. "I've been living in the woods for a long time now. I would assume that someone like me would have some advantages in the forested areas. I am also skilled in hunting and berry collecting." He nodded once to prove his point and finally rested it on his chest while the other three had "meaningful" conversation. A few seconds later, the huge snacks were devoured and everyone left in a hustle, pushing and shoving past each other into doors and who knows what. And as Merlin lay awake on his bed did he finally realize why he didn't just teleport off the building and run. Why wouldn't he run?


	3. Memories of The Dead Killers

AN Hi everyone. I'm really sorry, but my laptop screen got smashed. Now I have reduced my update time to three or four days as long as I like the chapter. Be patient with me please, and I will switch to Arthur's POV soon. So long! Farewell! Auf Wiedersehen! Goodbye!

Chapter 3- Merlin

Low hanging tree branches rustled and snapped as five escapees sprinted past. Each stepped lightly through the woods as Peacekeepers passed by with blissful ignorance. Step, step, step, step. Each step echoed off the jutting stones a little too loudly for the parents. Step, step, step, step, step. Puny sticks cracked and broke as the twin five year olds tripped onto the unforgiving floor. Hand in hand, each of the three children yanked each other along after their loving parents. Step, step, step, step. A muffled yelp jumped through the silent forest as Gwen covered her mouth and yanked her swelling ankle out of the rabbit hole. Step, step, step. Loud stomps shook the ground behind the Emrys family. CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! Little balls of lead, steel, and copper tore through the tree branches around the family, just barely missing the slowest member, Gwen. A pained yelp embedded itself in Merlin's ears as he turned to see her. Gwen's lavender dress stained red with blood and dirt as she fell. Three more yelps scored themselves in the five year old's memory as he lost his only family. As the oldest Emrys fell to the earth, a strong, gloved hand wrapped itself around his upper arm. His eyes glowed a luminous gold, and laying before him were seven dead men, and one healthy man in front of him. As two arms wrapped him in a grotesque version of a hug, a small swatch of cloth was pressed against his face, and all he could see was Little Freya splattered with blood.

A gasp escaped Merlin's mouth in replace of a scream, as he bolted straight up in his bed. No, he shook his fully awake head, not his bed their bed. The monsters that killed Freya. The idiots that had tried to capture Hunith. The murderers who ended Balinor and Gwen's existence. The dull creatures that had captured him in an effort to repress him. But, his stubborn mind supplied, look what you did to them.

Merlin could still remember as if it had just happened. The way the ever present tingle behind his eyes turned to a pleasant warming sensation. A warming sensation that killed seven men. Seven men that never deserved to die. Maybe they had a family. Kids, a wife. Kids that would never see Daddy ever again. Wives who would be forever in denial or sorrow, most likely searching for revenge on a lost child that looked helpless. A child who was isolated in the woods with only the birds for friends because of that warm sensation. A child who be afraid of himself for the next seven years until he just ignored it. He ignored what made him whole until he couldn't take it anymore.

Merlin looked ridiculous. Blood red tights were pulled under a matching button up tunic; a crimson hat was yanked down tight on his thin head. And it had feathers. FEATHERS. Blowing warm air up into the mess of bird fringe, he promptly threw the offending hat out the window. Shrugging, he figured it had so many feathers that it could probably fly away. Turning toward the ugliest closet in the world, he threw the orange and purple doors open to reveal his shabby wardrobe next to the luxurious clothing of the Capitol. Pale fingers tore clothes across the rack. Vibrant blues and reds were thrown across the rack with well worn, threadbare clothes from District 5. Toss, toss, throw. Each article of clothing that he knows he will never ever wear was finally thrown to the rainbow tiles, until a white jumpsuit looking thing was on the hanger in his hand. Covered in soot and coal ashes, Merlin's old powerplant uniform hung limply on the elaborate hanger, but the abused article still brought a smile to his forever unhappy face.

Five minutes later, he stood before the mirror as he had back in his village, Ealdor. A neon orange vest was strapped over his coal dusted white jumpsuit, with a hard hat for good measure. A tear floated down his face as Merlin glanced at his opening outfit. Last time he wore the poor thing, he was probably twelve. The day before the riot. His riot. The day before he was booted out of the district forever. And it still fits, the Emrys boy thought with a smile. How pathetic was that?


End file.
